The source of a voice was a tall, pale girl dressed in black with black ribbons in her hair. Zoe hadn't seen her when she went in the bathroom. She was leaning against the sink and held a smoldering black cigarette lightly between her third and fourth finger. The girl smiled casually as they made eye contact.

Zoe

Yeah. Kind of.

Smoking Girl

I don't mean to pry. I just noticed you sounded a little upset.

Zoe blushed a little. Was it that obvious? She put on her expressionless face to hide the fact that she was crying.

Zoe

No, it's okay. It's just been a really weird morning, that's all.

Smoking Girl

Howso?

Zoe

It's kind of a long story....

Smoking Girl

I don't mind. Now I'm curious.

Zoe studied the girl. She had never seen her before. And try as she might, Zoe couldn't exactly place her in any of the school's conveniently stereotypical cliques. Her black get-up indicated she might be a goth, but her lack of makeup made that a stretch. She seemed friendly and genuinely curious, but at the same time, emotionless. In a strange way, thought Zoe, the girl reminded her of herself, especially herself right at this moment—a curious outsider with a mask on her face. Was she a kindred spirit?